


It's Going To Be Okay

by ladyoneill



Series: Dark Side Of The Moon [30]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Babies, Dubious Consent, Forced Bonding, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-13
Updated: 2013-08-13
Packaged: 2017-12-23 08:06:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyoneill/pseuds/ladyoneill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles wakes up hurting and scared, but then Peter's there to reassure him and then she's there and everything is amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Going To Be Okay

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to [Burden Or Blessing?](http://archiveofourown.org/works/899888) but I expect there will be other fics before that one and in between these two. Written for the fullmoon ficlet prompt "Recuperating". The first story had the rape/noncon tag but this one is dubious consent in that Stiles still has some resentment for the forced mating and Peter getting him pregnant without his consent but their relationship is much better.

Stiles wakes slowly. He feels heavy and dull. There's a fogginess in his mind and a sour taste in his mouth.

And pain low in his stomach.

He remembers.

He tries to open his eyes, fails, and whimpers softly. A hand takes his, squeezes lightly and he tries to squeeze back but he feels so weak.

It was too soon.

Another whimper breaks from him and he feels hot wetness on his cheeks. The pain spikes and he tries to curl around himself, around his flat stomach.

"She's fine, Stiles," Peter says softly, and Stiles realizes he's been saying it over and over. "Deaton has her on oxygen but it's just a precaution. She's small but fully formed and so beautiful."

Stiles opens his eyes and the room is dimly lit but he can see his mate's worried face hovering over his. Peter's usually impeccable clothes are mussed and sweaty, his hair limp from lack of product, his face lined with an age he rarely shows.

"Wanna...see her," he manages to get out through bone dry lips, then coughs, sending new waves of pain through him. "Hurts."

Peter's free hand comes to rest lightly on Stiles' stomach, just above what he can now feel are bandages. Surgery. He had surgery. A caesarean.

The pain fades and he takes a shuddering breath. "I want to see her," he says more clearly.

Peter doesn't turn from taking his pain, just softly says, "Scott," and a few minutes later a make-shift bassinet is wheeled in by Stiles' smiling best friend.

"She just woke up. Maybe she knew her daddy was awake too. Mom'll be in in a few minutes to check on you." Leaving the bassinet next to the hospital bed Peter insisted be brought to the veterinarian clinic, Scott gives Stiles a thumbs up. "You did good." He leaves, but Stiles' attention is completely on the tiny infant wrapped in a pink blanket blinking at him from her tiny bed. He tries to sit up, tries to reach for her, and Peter stops him, lifts the baby--so little, too little?--and lays her in the crook of Stiles' arm.

Stiles is afraid and in love so madly, and what if he drops her or scars her for life just by being a man who gave birth, and what if she hates him or gets illegal tattoos or...

Peter chuckles softly. "Your face is so expressive, darling. She's fine. A little small, but she'll grow, and she already has a great set of lungs."

"Is she a wolf?"

"We can't tell yet because she was a month early, but Deaton says we should know in a couple weeks." Peter's hand brushes over the baby's light brown hair, dwarfing her head, before moving on to do the same to Stiles. Leaning down, he kisses Stiles' forehead. "You gave me a scare."

"Scared myself," he croaks out, and Peter gets him some water, letting him suck it down through a straw. "How long was I out?"

"Nearly six hours. It was...difficult, as we knew it would be. Your body adjusted to carrying a fetus but not well. You lost more blood than we would have liked."

"I want to go home." And, he does, because he doesn't like hospitals, even makeshift ones, and he hurts and he's tired.

"Not for a couple days at least. She needs to recover, as well, get a bit stronger. I've already fed her once, though, and she took the formula well."

"Good, 'cause I don't seem to have made milk." A part of him is glad because, weird, but a part of him feels the loss at not being able to feed his child.

A little hand waves and he's mesmerized, but exhaustion is beginning to sweep over him and he sighs softly. "You should take her. I'm..."

"Tired," Peter finishes as he carefully lifts their child into his arms and holds her for a long moment before placing her back in the bassinet and reattaching the oxygen. "You need to rest and recover yourself."

A noise at the doorway heralds the arrival of Melissa and Stiles smiles tiredly up at her. "I hurt."

Melissa grins and bustles forward to check his pulse and blood pressure. "You did good, kid, but you're not a woman. We're made to give birth, to handle the pain. I don't want to give you a higher dose of painkillers than you're already on, but if you really are hurting..."

"I am, but...I can take it. I don't want to be dopey."

Smiling again, she leans down and takes his temperature the mom way, with a kiss to his forehead. "You get some more sleep. When you wake up, we'll try some broth, okay?"

Stiles nods and she leaves, closing the door behind her. "It's going to take me twice as long to recover than a woman, right?"

"Probably. You had surgery, more major than a normal caesarean. You're going to take it easy. I'll happily pamper you." Peter grins in anticipation and Stiles rolls his eyes. 

"I'm not a damsel."

"No, but you did give birth to our first child, Stiles," Peter says more seriously, his hand returning to take more pain. "And I love you."

Stiles doesn't say it back, he can't yet, but he nods in acknowledgment and meets Peter's lips in a tender kiss. "You sure she's okay?"

"Yes, I swear, and so are you. It'll just take some time for you to get your strength back. It's fine. I've changed diapers and fed a baby before." There's a hint of sorrow in his voice, and Stiles pets his arm in sympathy. Peter lost a daughter and a wife in the fire. "We'll be fine, all of us."

A small squeaking cry came from the bassinet and the sorrow leaves Peter's face, replaced by a smile of delight. "And our little princess is hungry again."

"We need to name her," Stiles says with a yawn.

"When you wake again. Close your eyes."

The last thing Stiles sees before sleep claims him is Peter holding their daughter and rocking her softly, cooing at her as he heads out to find a bottle.

Okay, this is going to be...okay.

End


End file.
